


A Victory March

by pipperkipper



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Depression, Thought Spiral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipperkipper/pseuds/pipperkipper
Summary: After Endor, Jyn finds herself stuck at a crossroad.





	A Victory March

**Author's Note:**

> This is more depressing than I intended. Sorry. I tried to cover my bases with all the tags, but if anyone thinks of one that should be included, please let me know and I’ll add it.
> 
> Title is from Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Endor happens, an end and a beginning all at once. The final turning of the tides, the moment where victory is in their grasp but still so far away. There are other sectors that don’t know yet, planets still under Imperial rule. They may have chopped off the head, but that didn’t mean the body still wasn’t fighting back.

It was a moment worth celebrating, and nothing new.

Jyn knows that Endor is not the end. She suspects most of the rebels know this too, even as they celebrate around the large fires, swapping stories and booze, dancing like fools and basking in their victory. It’s hard not to join them—realistically, there’s only a few walkways and bridges between her and the rest of the rebels. But Jyn watches from the shadows as Chirrut tells his exaggerated tales, Baze no more than two meters away, and as Bodhi chats with Luke, their faces bright red from either the fire, the alcohol, or the conversation.

Endor is not the end of the rebellion, but it might be for her.

The thought is not new. It does not surprise her when it crosses her mind or distract her to the point of immobility. For months now, it’s flitted through her mind, a quick _this could be over soon_ or _I’m tired of fighting_. Now that it’s here in it’s entirety, she’s forced to focus on it.

And how easy it would be to leave the rebellion. Nobody would blame her for leaving—nobody will blame anyone for calling it quits now. The end is in sight, and as long as they have enough people to put out the last of the flames, the rebellion will let many of them go and start enjoying the freedom they’d fought for. They’d let her go, as they’d promised to do when she first encountered the rebellion. Her dues were paid long ago. Everything else was a gift.

If she asked, would Chirrut and Baze go with her? They’d mentioned wanting to leave before, but Jyn wasn’t sure they’d follow her. They’d mentioned NiJedha a few times over the years, their hopes that it was rebuilding along with the Temple. If it wasn’t, would they go? More than likely, yes, they would. Jyn couldn’t fault them for it, but a small part of her, the girl forever in the dark, had already decided not to ask at all, because the answer would no.

The girl in the dark was also the reason Jyn wouldn’t bother asking Bodhi. Whatever had been building between him and Luke was stabilizing, finally, and she would not be the one to tear them apart.

And then there was Cassian. Cassian, who had been in this fight since he was six years old. Cassian, who had earned the right to walk away more than anyone else. Cassian, who would not walk away from the fight, not when it was at it’s end, possibly not ever. For as long as they’d been whispering about the end, they’d been whispering about the next step, the New Republic. There would be a spot for him there, among those working to restore the galaxy.

Would there be a spot for her?

Jyn wondered if he knew that the Emperor and Vader were dead, that they’d won. Wherever he was, were they talking about Endor, about the rebellion’s victory? Was there chaos erupting around them, Imperials and sympathizers alike making plans to fight back or flee? Was he safe? Did he know that she was? Did he know she’d already decided to leave?

The question burned in Jyn’s mind, as the girl in the dark made her decision.

* * *

 

Cassian wasn’t there when they returned to Home I. It was probably for the best, because he wouldn’t be able to change her mind. But it was also unfortunate, because he wouldn’t be able to see Chirrut and Baze off.

The girl in the dark viciously snapped, _I told you so_ , when they’d announced their plans.

“The Temple calls,” Chirrut said. “We need to be there to teach the new acolytes properly.”

“Don’t you want to wait for Cassian?” Bodhi asked.

“We will see him again one day, just as we will see both of you. The Force has promised us that.”

Bodhi nodded and promised to send any potential recruits to them. Jyn stared resolutely at the hangar wall. In the few days since Endor, nobody had asked her what she planned on doing. Most probably assumed she’d stay. She was fairly certain Bodhi thought that. But Baze and Chirrut—something in their lingering gazes made her skin prickle.

It wasn’t until Bodhi and Chirrut were loading supplies onto a ship that Baze said anything.

“You could join us,” he said, voice low.

Jyn frowned, setting a crate down near the ramp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Baze scoffed. “Don’t think me a fool. We saw how you weren’t celebrating that night. How you’ve distanced yourself in the days since.”

“A lot’s happened. I’m overwhelmed.”

Jyn paused as Baze stepped into her way. She could feel his eyes burning into the top of her head as she focused on his chest. He was right, of course. She’d distanced herself the last few days, trying to make the break easier. It was hard to let go of so many years of camaraderie and friendship, but it was right. If she looked at him now, she’d break. She’d stay, or go with them, or collapse into a puddle of tears in the middle of the hangar.

_They always go_ , crooned the girl in the dark. _Now we go._

“Little sister,” he said, tapping gently on the bottom of her chin. Jyn bit her lip and raised her head, but did not meet his eyes. “We will see each other again. All is as the Force wills it.”

A wet cough escaped her throat. Jyn excused herself, sprinting for her quarters.

* * *

“Luke’s thinking about making a new Jedi Temple,” Bodhi said a few days later. Jyn hummed, pushing food around her plate. “He, uh, he asked me to help him. To gather, and, um, help guide them.”

_I knew it_ , taunted the girl in the dark. _Off he goes_.

“That’d be good.”

“You could come too,” he said, the words tumbling over each other. Jyn blinked, her fork stilling on her plate. Across the table, Bodhi peered at her, cautious, hopeful. “Luke thinks it’d be good to have someone to show them how to fight.”

“Maybe,” Jyn said, refocusing on her plate. “I don’t know.”

Bodhi hummed.

People, including herself, often didn’t give Bodhi enough credit. For all his quirks and ticks, he’d always been good at reading people. Not Cassian level, but better than most people thought. Jyn’s gaze flicked over to him once more, meeting his eyes. Had he known as long as Chirrut and Baze, or had they told him to keep an eye on her?

Did it matter?

_We have to go_ , the girl in the dark said. _Before him_.

“What should I tell Cassian?” Bodhi asked, dipping his gaze.

Jyn’s jaw tightened. “I haven’t even made a decision yet,” she lied. “I’ll talk to him first.”

Bodhi’s gaze met hers once more. Jyn did not lower it. She knew he was trying to figure out if she was lying or not, that she was contradicting what he’d already figured out. Guilt burned her chest. The moment he realized she’d blatantly lied to him, Jyn was certain he’d resolve to never see her again. It was what she would do. What she’d intended to do.

_We don’t need them. We’ve survived before._

But surviving wasn’t living, even if Jyn wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever properly lived.

“Okay,” Body said, nodding. He set his fork down. “Okay, Jyn.”

* * *

There were moments when Jyn reconsidered her decision. When Poe Dameron ran through the mess hall, squealing each time Shara or Kes stepped into his path, or the night she drank and played sabaac with Han, Bodhi, and Chewie. Moments where she realized that she’d found a family here, cultivated something worth keeping.

Something that she would lose the moment she left.

_They’ll leave soon_ , the girl in the dark promised. _Off to their new lives._

Their new lives, where Shara and Kes settled down somewhere to watch Poe grow up, where Han and Chewie followed Leia to wherever the New Republic called. They would go, the same as Chirrut and Baze, as Luke and Bodhi. As Saw and Galen and Lyra.

Cassian would go too, ever the obedient soldier.

She could go with him.

_Are you sure he wants you there?_

In four years, they’d never defined truly defined their relationship. On Rogue One missions, they were always partners, and on nights where Scarif haunted her, she could find solace in his bed. They kissed a lot and had sex, but beyond that, nothing had ever been clearly defined.

They were partners, but there was no explanation of what that meant exactly.

Cassian wouldn’t mind her there, would he? He’d welcomed her home, after all. But that wasn’t the same as actually wanting her there, or even simply minding her. What if he had a mission for the New Republic? She’d never accompanied him on his Intelligence missions. He’d never asked, even though several had recommended a partner. If he had a mission for the New Republic, would he leave her behind until he returned? And if he died?

_We should go_. It was not the girl in the dark this time, but Jyn, frightened and small. The questions kept adding up in her mind, one on top of the other, building and building until they threatened to swallow her whole. There was no winning this situation, no solution that didn’t end in heartbreak. Better to decide when to break her heart than let someone else decide for her.

Surviving wasn’t living, but Jyn still knew how to survive.

* * *

The day she planned to leave, Cassian returned. Jyn wasn’t surprised. She’d never considered herself lucky, and that wasn’t going to change as she got older. He had to debrief, though, and if she was quick enough, she could be on her way out before he’d finished.

Running into K-2SO outside her door did not help her schedule.

“Jyn Erso,” he said, voice snarky as ever. “Cassian will be pleased to know you’re here.”

A weight pressed on Jyn’s heart. She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He was convinced you would leave.”

So he’d known, then. Known long before she had even decided. Jyn huffed and said, “‘Course not.”

K-2 tilted his head, his optics narrowing. “You are lying,” he said after a moment. “Cassian will be displeased.”

“I haven’t left yet,” she snarled. “And don’t you dare tell him that.”

K-2 looked appalled by the idea. It was odd, seeing the reaction. More often than not, C-3PO was the one who was appalled. She’d never expected it of K-2.

“Unlike you,” he said snidely, “I would never lie to Cassian. Besides, he already knows.”

Jyn blinked. “How?”

“He heard us,” K-2 said, nodding over her shoulder.

Jyn spun. Cassian stood a few paces away, a flurry of emotions playing on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, though there was the faintest smile on his face. The were sharp, tense creases around his eyes, and his brow was slightly furrowed.

He knew. He’d known she was going to leave, and now he knew she was willing to lie to get away. Depending how much he’d heard, he’d probably deduced that she’d been planning on leaving today, and that him returning had accelerated the process.

He knew she’d planned on going without saying goodbye.

“Kay,” Cassian said when the silence had stretched thin, “can you give us a minute?”

Jyn couldn’t see him and knew realistically he couldn’t, but she imagined he’d rolled his eyes as he stalked off. At the very least, he mumbled, “Organics.”

She was suddenly hyper aware that it was her and Cassian standing in the corridor now. Cassian, who hadn’t expected her to be here. Who wore his spy mask so she couldn’t guess his emotions. Who was studying her like a predator watching its prey.

He nodded towards her door. “Can we?”

Jyn nodded, her hands shaking as she entered the door code. Inside, she did not settle. Her quarters were pristine, the bed with its tucked sheets, the desk with only her rebellion issued data pad sitting in the center. She stood off to the side, no more than three steps from the door in the event she needed a quick escape, watching Cassian survey the room.

He laughed, disbelieving. “You were actually leaving.” The words were soft, devastated, yet they echoed off the walls and wedged themselves into all the broken crevices in her body.

“Yes.”

“Why, Jyn?” he asked, turning to face her. The mask had slipped, the devastation clear.

Jyn opened her mouth, grasping for words, but nothing came out. She shook her head helplessly.

“Nothing?” he asked, and now it was anger fueling him. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye and can’t even tell me why?”

She envied him in that moment. He still had a fire in him, a light that dimmed into nothingness. He could go from sadness to anger to anything else as easily as anyone else, and she envied that.

“Everyone’s going,” she said, though her voice sounded odd. “Everyone’s moving on and leaving and I can’t—I have to go _first_ —I can’t watch—”

“Who’s going, Jyn?”

“Everyone,” she sobbed. When had that started? “Shara and Kes and Bodhi and Han and Baze and you and—”

“I’m going?” he interrupted. Jyn nodded. “Where, exactly, am I going?”

“Wherever the New Republic goes,” she said, not entirely sure he could understand her with her wobbling voice. At the very least, New Republic seemed to stand out.

“And where are you going?”

Jyn shrugged.

“Why aren’t we going somewhere together?”

“Why would we do that?” she sniffled.

Cassian blinked. “Well, for one, I thought we were partners.”

Jyn’s jaw tightened. At the very least, they agreed that they were partners. “We are.”

“So we’re partners, but we’re still going our separate ways?”

“Yes,” Jyn growled.

“You understand how ridiculous this is, right?”

“It’s not,” she snapped. “What if you think partners means something else?”

Cassian hesitated. She watched as his eyes focused on a spot beyond her shoulder, processing the information. Jyn bit her lip. What if she was right? What if he’d thought it meant something else, something less intimate and promising than she wanted? Would he be able to give her something she needed if he didn’t truly want it?

“Jyn,” Cassian said, drawing her attention to him. His hands were on her shoulders, gently shaking her out of her thoughts. “Jyn, focus on me.” She blinked, meeting his eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Jyn. Whatever we decide to do next, we do it together, okay?”

Jyn pulled back. It was a lie, it was always a lie. They never came back. They never found her again.

“Jyn, focus.” Cassian shook her gently. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. And when you decide where to go, I’ll be with you.”

“Don’t promise me.”

“I am,” he said instead. “Jyn, I’m not going anywhere without you. I need you to trust me on that, okay? Trust goes both ways.”

Jyn frowned. Her words. Words she’d stuck by for four years, that had been the foundation of their relationship and the thing they prized the most. If she owed him nothing else, she owed him trust.

“Okay,” Jyn said, and though she didn’t feel it yet, it was a step towards something better. She could work with trust, could let it be the foundation as it always had been, let it guide them towards something new. She looked up, meeting his eye. For a moment, neither said a word, until she cracked a smile and whispered, “Are you with me?”

Cassian grinned. “All the way.”


End file.
